


insight

by laconicGhost



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday Party, Drabble, M/M, Pining, happy birthday mattsun u meme, have some pining, side mentions of iwaoi, theyre all second years btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laconicGhost/pseuds/laconicGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa pulls the cup to his lips and blows at the steam, watching it curl around his nose and face as he laughs softly. “Mattsun’s realized he’s in love with Makki. Finally.” </p>
<p>Iwaizumi hums knowingly, taking his own mug in his hands. “About time,” he says easily, and Matsukawa groans.</p>
<p>“I really don’t want to hear that from you. Either of you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	insight

**Author's Note:**

> i had this collecting dust with my wips for a while, so i thought id spruce it up and post if for matsukawa's birthday even though its kinda short. happy birthday my wonderful eyebrow son i love you!
> 
> any mistakes are mine and ill fix them when i notice them

Matsukawa is finding it really hard to say no to Hanamaki these days. No matter what scheme the strawberry blond has planned, Matsukawa can’t help but tag along. When Makki went to trek through the snow to get to the new bakery that has opened up (even though Matsukawa told him over and over that it would have closed in the storm), Mattsun still tagged along. The time that Hanamaki came to school in a hat to cover up the atrocious dye job he’d done at home, Matsukawa found himself following his best friend home with a brand new jar of Pretty Flamenco hair dye to re-do it the following evening. He even paid for the jar himself.

He’s not entirely sure when it happened, but he notices that he’s really in deep with his best friend on his birthday; not being able to tear his eye away from the sight of Hanamaki’s smiling face when they all leap out from inside of the gym to surprise both him and Yahaba. He tries to keep himself from staring all day at practice and then later that night, when the festivities are long over and he lays underneath the kotatsu at Iwaizumi’s house with his friends, Hanamaki beside him and already asleep, he sighs softly

Issei never really noticed how pretty he was. Makki could be on par with _Oikawa’s_ frustrating good looks if he actually cared enough to keep up with the maintenance that went with it, smooth skin and round cheeks, delicate eyelashes fluttering gently in his sleep. His hair is still soft and feathery even though it had been dyed several times in the past few months, the pink fading into a warm orangey coral near his roots as they grew in. Matsukawa mentally notes that the boy needs a haircut, and finds himself pulling his lips to the side.

“I’m in love with him,” he murmurs quietly, to no one in particular. It’s more to himself, a comment that didn’t need an answer right away, but the words ring with a comfortable and honest truth and he feels like a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders.  Matsukawa is surprised when Oikawa hums at the statement and looks up from his phone from across the kotatsu. It takes a moment, glancing between Matsukawa and his unwavering gaze on the strawberry-haired boy next to him, and grins when he puts two and two together.

“Of course you are,” he says simply, his eyes sliding back down to the device in his hand as he pulls his thumb lazily across the touchscreen, his head resting in his palm as he props it up with his elbow. Brown eyes skim whatever he’s reading, not particularly interested in whatever it had to say as they flicker quickly across, and he snickers. “I’ve never seen someone so head over heels.”

“You should really look in the mirror then,” Matsukawa retorts easily, not taking his eyes off of the pink-haired boy resting beside him. Thankfully, Hanamaki doesn’t make any indication that their conversation is bothering his rest, but Issei finds himself lowering his voice anyway to make sure it stays that way. “You and Iwaizumi need to learn how to get a room.”

Oikawa purses his lips, locking his phone and setting it on top of the table as he scoots further underneath the futon. “I’m being serious, Mattsun,” he pouts, pulling an extra blanket laying on the floor next to him around his shoulders. Issei finally looks away to meet his friend’s eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“So am I. The next time I walk in on you two sucking face I’m quitting the club.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, clearly not at all worried about the treat and brightening when Iwaizumi returns from the kitchen with two cups of tea. “Iwa-chan, tell Mattsun I’m being serious,” he whines quietly, taking one of the steaming mugs and pulling it closer towards himself. Iwaizumi grunts in question, eyes flickering between the two people awake at the kotatsu as he takes a seat himself between them.

“What for?”

Oikawa pulls the cup to his lips and blows at the steam, watching it curl around his nose and face as he laughs softly. “Mattsun’s realized he’s in love with Makki. Finally.”

Iwaizumi hums knowingly, taking his own mug in his hands. “About time,” he says easily, and Matsukawa groans.

“I really don’t want to hear that from you. _Either_ of you,” he snaps, and Iwaizumi just hides a smile in his cup as Oikawa laughs quietly. Issei sighs out deeply, running a hand through his dark curls. “I’m _serious_ , it was embarrassing watching you two stumble around each other like a bunch of lovesick toddlers for _months_.”

“This isn’t about us though, it’s about _you_ and _Hanamaki_ ,” Iwaizumi interrupts. He nudges his head over towards the sleeping boy. “Are you going to tell him?”

Matsukawa frowns, dragging his gaze back over towards his best friend. He hums. “Probably. I mean, he deserves to know.” He reaches out to brush down a lock of salmon hair that refuses to stay flat, ghosting his fingers down the side of Hanamaki’s face. Takahiro stays still, his breathing deep and even in his sleep, and as Issei’s hand falls away to rest in his lap again the brunet shuts his eyes and rests his head on the kotatsu table top. “He deserves to know,” he repeats, almost like he was trying to tell himself, his voice a low mumble.

Whether or not that day would come soon was another question, but with a year of highschool left, Issei figures he’ll be fine. No, he _knows_ he'll be fine as Hanamaki brushes his knee against his leg underneath the futon, and he swears he can see the boy twitch the corner of his lip up in a smile.

And Matsukawa can't help but smile back.


End file.
